Names Will Never Hurt Me
by Jemmiah
Summary: QuiGon fondly recalls his padawan days...with interesting results.


TITLE: Names Will Never Hurt Me (Sticks & Stones)

By Jemmiah

*************

"Master Jinn?" Jemmy asked, looking up from the painting she was doing of a bowl of fruit sitting on the table in front of her, desperately trying not to give into temptation and eat every last one of the shiny red Dilarberries. 

"Yes, Tangles? What is it?" 

Qui-Gon seemed preoccupied with what reading some kind of report, and didn't even look up when she spoke. He and Obi-Wan were about to leave on a mission that would take them far away from Coruscant, where only Jemmiah's prayers could reach them. He'd not spoken much about the mission except to say that it was on a distant planet in the outer reaches of the galaxy, and that their stay might be quite uncomfortable, seeing as how the place they were travelling to was rather hot and somewhat uncivilised in places. Perhaps then she shouldn't even be bothering him with idle chit-chat.

"What were you like as a child?"

That had the desired effect. Qui-Gon's brows knitted together and ever so slowly his head turned to face the ten-year-old, baffled by the curious nature of the question. Jemmiah could see the cogs turning in his head, obviously wondering what direction the conversation might take from that point.

"Where do you get these questions?" Jinn wondered aloud, bewildered blue eyes scrutinising the Corellian child, sweeping her up and down in puzzlement. "Why do you wish to know that?"

"I'm just having trouble imagining you at Obi-Wan's age." Jemmy shrugged defensively. "You're so serious sometimes. I wondered if you were always like that."

"The life of a Jedi IS a serious one." Countered Qui-Gon, patiently waiting Jemmiah's next questions. 

"Yes, I know that. But surely that doesn't mean it's always like that? I mean, I always get into trouble and do stupid things." Jemmy looked across at him expectantly. "Didn't you ever do anything silly as a child?"

"No." Jinn tried to expunge some of his less commendable exploits with Dex, Mace and Vernice from his thoughts. He'd had his share of scrapes but it wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to admit to Jemmiah. If he didn't give her an ideal role model to follow then what kind of signal did that give out? After the life she had been forced to live the girl was in need of stability and a good, moral grounding. Admitting his many failures would not be a wise move. How would she look up to him then?

But maybe it might make him appear less distant. Less 'serious' as the child had put it. Even after all these months Qui-Gon still felt that he was finding his way with Jemmiah. That she found him remote at times was quite frankly alarming to him. So what should he say?

"What, never?" Jemmiah blinked. "Not once?"

"Well…" Qui-Gon hesitated, fiddling with the clasp that tied back his long hair.

"Ha! I knew it!" Jemmy put down the paintbrush and clasped her hands together expectantly, waiting for more information to be forthcoming. "What?"

"Pardon?"

"What did you do?" The eagerness in her small face completely threw Qui-Gon for a moment. "You can tell me! I won't say a word - not even to Obi-Wan!"

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, foot jiggling slightly as it did when impatient or uncomfortable. He'd backed himself into a corner. Part of him intensely disliked the idea that he was going to have to leave Jemmiah in the care of G'emela, his first padawan, so soon into their first half year or so together. That of course was inevitable - as he'd explained to Jemmiah on countless occasions - for the life of a Jedi was purely to serve in the name of galactic peace and stability. He went where he was bade, and his padawan went with him. It had been that way before Jemmiah had appeared on the scene and would continue that way for years after. The sooner she got used to the idea the better. 

Of course it wasn't ideal; the stability he'd hoped to give her by becoming her guardian would surely be diminished as a result of his missions away from Coruscant. But what else was there to do? Except perhaps make sure that she was aware of her place within his household and reiterate that it would always be so no matter where he or Obi-Wan were.

He placed the report down and manoeuvred his chair around to face her.

"On the whole I was as you see me know." Qui-Gon said, carefully picking his words. "I was dedicated to my learning. Under the tutelage of the likes of Master Yoda and Master Dooku I had very little choice to be anything else. From time to time I felt frustrated with life within these walls and longed to see more of the galaxy, even though I wasn't ready to face those challenges. Dex Berlingside," he remembered with a fond smile, "used to keep us all entertained. He had a slightly more irreverent take on how best to succeed as a jedi padawan. And whilst we were respectful and knew our place we did from time to time indulge in behavior that was perhaps slightly beneath us."

"How?" Jemmy's eyes gleamed.

//I should have known that one would follow.// Qui-Gon sighed to himself.

"You promise you won't say anything?" Jinn insisted, staring at her to make his point.

"Promise! Cross my heart and hope to marry a three eyed Malastarian!" Jemmy replied, holding up a solemn hand. 

Qui-Gon pursed his lips. "We did have rather unflattering names for a lot of the masters."

"Yeah?" Jemmy leaned heavily on one hand, interested. "Like what?"

"Well…" Qui-Gon cast his mind back to his padawan days. "Yoda had quite a lot of names, even though we admired and respected him, but he could be a hard taskmaster. He was so wise and revered that at times he made us feel so stupid in comparison that we could all have shrunk into the woodwork to escape."

"Names." Jemmy insisted.

"Ahem…" Jinn coughed into his hand, knowing that this just had to be a bad idea. "We called him the, er… 'Troll'. Master Samir on account of being Togorian was known as 'Fish-breath.' Master Agrikka we called 'Mouth' on account of his liking for his own voice. Master Wending, our resident gourmet chef and erstwhile cookery tutor, was referred to as 'Draigon-Lady'. Master Urula-Zys we named 'Noodle'," Jinn chuckled ungentlemanly at the image of the old lady, "Because she looked like a walking mound of pasta! Never did find out what planet she was from…"

"Go on!" Grinned Jemmy, waving her legs back and forth as she sat on the chair.

"Master Qwiffle was good. We called her 'Tusks' because she had this moustache that made her resemble a giant Flipperphant!" Qui-Gon almost felt him transported back to the old days as he remembered all the little things about the masters and padawans he had known and grown up with. "Master Sheedi we called 'Snuggles'…"

"Yuck!" Jemmy wrinkled up her face.

"She was our crèche master." Qui-Gon's reply was lofty, trying to excuse the soppyness of the name they'd bestowed on the woman. "Master Montal was known as 'One-socket'…"

"Eh?"

"As in 'One socket short of a holo terminal.' And as for Mace and Dex, well…"

"What about 'em?" Jemmy breathed.

"I'm not telling you!" He mumbled so that she could hardly make out what he was saying. "But between you and me Master Windu did have an unfortunate tendency as a child to…how shall I put this…wet himself in moments of severe stress. I'm afraid that we did perhaps torment him somewhat as a result…"

Qui-Gon stood up to show that the embarrassing interview was at an end. "I have already said far too much on the subject as it is. Now, I suggest that you carry on with that nice painting of yours and stop eating the Dilarberries before they all disappear, and you run out of things to sketch."

"It can be a before and after." Jemmy popped one of the sweet, red little fruit into her mouth and watched Qui-Gon retreat towards the safety of his own room, report in hand.

Just before he got to the door the com chirped loudly, signalling that there was somebody who wished to speak via the holoterminal. Jemmy let her eyes follow Qui-Gon uncertainly. He usually didn't like her using the holoterminal, not after that embarrassing incident with Chancellor Valorum…

"Answer that would you, please?" Jinn called over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a moment."

Jemmiah tried to hide her surprise. Was he prepared to trust her again, was that what he was saying?

"Okay…" Jemmy swung her legs off the chair, walking over to the holoterminal and activating the screen. A blue, three-dimensional image wavered for a moment before her until finally settling down into the features of someone that Qui-Gon and Jemmiah knew very well.

"Jemmiah." Mace Windu smiled courteously at her.

"Master Windu." Jemmy nodded back.

"I see he's let you answer the holoterminal again." The man noted with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I was as surprised as you are. I think he feels sorry for me coz I'm getting stuck with G'emela."

"Oh." Mace considered that for a moment, and the sympathetic look on the master's face did not fill Jemmiah with any confidence regarding her stay with Master Jinn's former apprentice. "I see. Actually, it's about Master Jinn's mission that I wish to talk. Is he around?"

"Yup." Jemmy nodded her head and pointed through in the direction of Qui-Gon's room. "Hold on a moment…"

The Corellian looked from Master Jinn's bedroom, to the holo screen, then back again. She coughed somewhat violently to clear her throat before shouting in an EXTREMELY loud voice:

"Master Jinn? It's 'Soggy-Butt' for you!"


End file.
